Suffocation
by Bosihiov
Summary: Grief is something that never ceases to suffocate. Warnings: character death and a one (or two) curse words. Rated "T" for safety's sake.


_**Author's Note: **__No children of Sokka and Suki have been mentioned in __**The Legend of Korra**__. Here's my explanation as to why._

I seem to kill everything I love. My mother died because I was too young to protect her. My sister's soul was brutually murdered because of my mother's death. My wife, Suki, died bringing our child into the world. Our child went with her.

Suki's death, I suppose, is what changed me from a cactus juice-drinking fool to what I am today; sad, but hard-working. A member of the Council of the United Republic. Impressive, considering the many ridiculous incidences in my life, the cactus juice episode being one.

Some numb their sadness with sex. Some drown their sorrows in drink. Me, personally, I suffocate my grief with work.

Suffocation is a reoccuring theme in my life. My daugher suffocated on her mother's pelvis. Grief suffocates me. I suffocate it back. Never is it slaughtered, only held at bay. Can grief ever be truly suffocated? The answer: no. And that's just how it is.

Why did Suki of all people have to die? Why not some dumb bitch getting an abortion? Why not a nasty whore? Why her, who'd never done anything to hurt anyone?

We hadn't been married long at the discovery of Suki's pregnancy; roughly two months. The One Hundred Years War had warped up only a week prior to our marriage. Why not celebrate The End with a wedding?

Suki had become ill after she'd told everyone of her pregnancy. Constant vomitting. Many days where she couldn't leave the bed. She trembled with fever, soaked in sweat.

At four months, she began to drop weight, though her stomach swelled. Quite often, I had to leave her. Zuko and Aang needed me. The United Republic was in the process of being built and negotiations with the Earth King for land to built this republic were being conducted. They couldn't do it on their own.

Every night, when I came home to our apartment above the Jasmine Dragon, Suki seemed to have deteroriated even more. She was decaying before my eyes.

Aang said something about how the Air Nomads would have blamed an evil spirit for Suki's condition. I snapped at him, saying this this was a _baby_, not a _demon_. Katara stuck up for him. What was exactly said is something I can't remember, but what I do remember is not speaking to either of them until Suki's funeral.

Starting in Suki's fifth month, Toph would sit with Suki until I arrived home. Iroh, who Suki had worked for, would also poke in and out of our flat. Zuko asked every day that we met how Suki was doing. My answer was always the same-"she's been better"-but his concern made me feel good.

At six months, there seemed to be no moment that Suki was not sobbing from pain or vomitting. Negotiations for land had finished, so I was home every day. Watching her suffer.

Despite my constant being home, Toph stayed. She would sit on the bed's edge like a little guard animal. I would walk her home every night. But, some how, no matter how early we woke, Toph was there. Kindness without wading through the bullshit was something I never thought I'd see from her.

One morning, both of us sitting in the kitchen, Toph asked, "Do you think she'll make it?"

I turned from the counter I was leaning over. "Make what?"

"You know. Survive?"

I hadn't thought of that, the possiblity of Suki dying. I knew that many women in the Southern Water Tribe died giving birth. But, not many women in some place as advanced as Ba Sing Se died could die from something like that. Right? "Yes," I lied, still unsure. "She might be sick, but she's tough. She'll bounce back."

Toph grinned widely, displaying nearly all of her teeth. "Like your boomerang?"

She made me smile. "Yeah." I laughed. "Yeah. Like the boomerang."

Not too long after that little discussion, Suki woke, drenched in sweat. While I carried her into the bathroom, Toph's question hit me again. Would Suki survive giving birth, even when she was too weak to walk?

At seven months, Suki woke me in the early morning hours of what would become a sweltering day. She screamed something about her water breaking. I jumped from bed, seeing the sheets and her clothing soaked in blood and sweat.

_Too early. _My thoughts screamed. _It's too early._

I took off down the street to a midwife's apartment, slammed on her door, and screamed something at her when she answered. She gasped, slipping on a pair of shoes. I grabbed her sleeve and ran her back to my house.

I stood in a corner of our bedroom, watching the bloody spectable. Toph appeared at her usual time. She stood with me, watching.

Twelve hours later, our daughter was born. The midwife had muttered several times before the birth that the baby had been caught on Suki's pelvis and that it would suffocate. That was when Toph lost in, crying into my shirt.

Suki died burning of fever after losing massive amounts of blood.

My vision swirled. My heart was ready to explode. My lungs felt full of rocks. I was suffocating.

_**Author's Note: **__Never said the explanation would be a happy one._


End file.
